


A Tale of Two Kathryns

by Phantomwriter1231



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:13:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24779692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phantomwriter1231/pseuds/Phantomwriter1231
Summary: Set a year after 'Endgame.' Kathryn receives a mysterious package. Rated T, for language. Mild profanity.
Relationships: Chakotay/Kathryn Janeway, William Riker/Deanna Troi
Comments: 8
Kudos: 19





	1. Prologue

_"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way-in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only."_

_-_ Charles Dickens, _A Tale of Two Cities_

"Hey, I might be bored as hell, but I'm not going there!"

"Good idea, Tom," Harry patted his back. They were sitting in the mess hall, relaxing over a hot cup of joe at 2 am in the morning. It was empty except for both of them and the rest of the senior officers. In the corner closest to the viewport, where the eternal veil of darkness embraced the stars, sat Kathryn. She wore civilian's clothing and her stance was relaxed. Her auburn locks turned a soft chestnut color with the passing of time, framed her face as they cascaded down her back. It'd grown since the last time Tom saw her, and he could have sworn that he'd seen bags underneath her eyes earlier.

"Are you upset he couldn't make it, Captain?"

"Harry, please, call me Kathryn; I haven't been the Captain in years!" she laughed softly, "No, I'm not upset, but I guess I just thought he would be here. It's been a year, after all."

"That P'tak!" He heard B'Elanna grumble under her breath.

"Has anybody heard from him lately?" she asked, and Tom caught a hint of melancholy in her deep, blue eyes.

"No idea," Harry admitted, "Last I spoke to him was six months ago, he hasn't called since then."

"Did he tell you where he was or what were his plans?" Tom looked at him. He shook his head.

"No, although, now that I think about it, he did mention something about wanting to write a book. Something about healing, I think."

"Chakotay, a writer?" B'Elanna burst into laughter, Oh, please, give me a break! The only story the man knows is 'Three Little Pigs' and he doesn't even know the whole story."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, B. Chakotay has the education of a XIX century third-year-student at Trinity College. Have you ever seen the man's literary interest? As to the writing, I think he was born for it." There was a look on her face Tom couldn't decipher.

"Care to explain, Kat?"

"Ugh, please don't call me that. Only my aunt calls me that and I absolutely hate it."

"Whatever, answer my question."

"There are some things, Tom, that I prefer keeping to myself." Kathryn lowered her head and stared at the floor.

"Am I sensing what I'm sensing here, Captain?" He teased. B'Elanna bore her eyes at him.

"You know, Sweetheart, she's not a telepath. Although, sometimes I wonder whether she is or not."

"She's not, but Tuvok is." The Vulcan turned to look at him and lifted an inquisitive eyebrow.

"I would prefer, Lieutenant, if you would please leave me out of it."

"Why, don't be so bitter, Mr. Vulcan. Let Lieutenant Paris have some fun," Neelix cut in.

"For once, I must agree with Mr. Neelix. You have to learn to have a little fun."

"I am sorry, Captain, but I am a Vulcan. Vulcans don't 'have fun.'"

"Oh, come on, Tuvok, surely you are bluffing."

"Vulcans never bluff."

"You know, Tuvok," Kathryn took a sip of her steaming cup, "quoting Spock won't get you very far." The room exploded with laughter at her comment. This was a whole new side to Captain Kathryn Janeway that Tom had yet to test flight.

"Alright," she sentenced, "I'll leave you to it, I must get some sleep before morning. See you all in a couple of hours." And she walked out of the room, coffee mug in hand.


	2. For Somebody I Once Knew

Captain Kathryn Janeway lifted her eyes at the knock on her door. She sat at her desk going over some assignments, as her students took an exam, when she noticed the nervous cadet standing by the door. She was about Kathryn's height, wearing a stuffy science-blue uniform, and hair pinned up into a jet-black ponytail. She was nervous, Kathryn could tell, as she waved her hand for her to come outside.

Kathryn got up and walked towards the door. She opened it and stepped out into the hallway as quietly as it was humanly possible. Once out in the hallway, her eyes bore straight into the cadet's brown ones.

"May I help you, Cadet Wyatt?"

"I am very sorry to disturb you, Captain, but I was ordered to give this to you." She was presented with a yellow, medium-sized packing envelope. It had her name handwritten in the front, but no remittent address.

"Do you know the name and rank of whoever gave you the order, Cadet?"

"By the insignias on his collar, I gather he was a Commander, Captain. However, I did not ask his name."

"It's alright, Cadet. Your mission is over, you can relax now. Thank you. Dismissed." The cadet left, and she went inside the silent classroom. She sat at her desk once more and searched for the antique letter opener in the top-drawer. She opened the envelope, careful not to harm whatever it was.

Inside there were two items; a book and a thin slip of paper. She pulled both out, reading the note first.

_I spoke with Harry. He told me you asked about me. I'm sorry, I couldn't make it to the first-year reunion. I got stuck in a snowstorm in Ireland and my agent couldn't book anything until a week later. I am very sorry, Kathryn._

_My book is coming out tomorrow, but I want you to be the first one to have it. I really hope you enjoy it._

_P.S: Dinner at my place, tonight, 1900h. I have attached the address below._

Kathryn sat the note aside with a smile on her face. Ireland, that's where he was. The thought of it stroke her funny. There was no way that she could picture Commander Chakotay in Ireland. He was too calm for that.

Walking to her apartment proved an impossible task with all the fog blocking her vision. It was unusually cold for San Francisco and she instantly regretted leaving her jacket hanging from the back of her office chair. She stopped at her favorite coffee shop to buy a cup of tea, stopping to talk to the barista. He was a short, chubby-looking guy, with a funny Italian accent that she enjoyed messing with every time she saw him. The man, bless his heart, was all smiles and greeted her with one every time.

"Ah," he'd say, "Miss Katie! What's it going to be tonight?" She'd usually replied with her usual order, but, occasionally, she would surprise him by ordering something different.

"Ginger Tea, Max. Medium Size, no sugar."

"For here or to take with you?"

"To take with me. Thank you."

"It'll be right up, you know the drill, Miss Katie." She took a seat in a booth by the window. Her eyes lost themselves in the foggy distance and her mind got lost in thought. When Maximillian came back with her tea, he found her deep in reflection.

"Miss Katie?" he touched her shoulder lightly. Kathryn turned her head to look at him and smiled, thanking him profusely before walking out of the coffee shop to her apartment.

Once home, she took some time to pet Erin. The Irish setter pup wagged its tail happily to finally see her come home. She plopped on the couch and pulled the book out of her briefcase. She'd been waiting all day long to start reading. Erin hopped on the couch and settled on her lap.

The cover of the book was a picture of a younger self. Where the hell did he get it from was a mystery to Kathryn. The title read "A Tale of Two Kathryns." The author name read "Ian McCarthy." She opened it to the Dedication's page. There, in a very small, ornate font lay the phrase:

_For somebody I once knew, you know I'll always be an angry warrior._

It took her some time to get her bearings together, as she exploded in tears at the sole dedication of the book. It was no wonder she barely saw him during the last days on the ship and he barely even called her afterward. She missed him with every fiber of her being. What the hell was he even doing in Ireland in the first place? Well, she was about to find out in a couple of hours.

The chronometer marked 1600h and she dashed toward the bedroom to get changed. It was casual, she decided, and pulled out from her closet a vintage dress, mid-thigh length, just above the knee. It had long sleeves, to protect herself from the cold, and it had a floral pattern unto a black background that she loved. Nothing too showy.

In front of the mirror, she fuzzed with her hair for a solid ten minutes before deciding to leave it down as it was. At this point, it was nearly reaching her lumbar, and she was having a tough time detangling it and pinning it up every morning. She'd forgotten how much of a hassle it really was. From the drawer to her left, she pulled out a small, black hairclip and went ahead to pull the front of it back so that it wouldn't get in her face. She pulled a tendril from each side and defined them with her fingers and a bit of hair gel.

She slowly made her trek back to the living room, where Erin awaited her return. Kathryn pet her lightly and bent over the coffee table to pick up the note. The address read "142 Wayside Lane." Exactly next door from her. She smiled subconsciously and shook her head. It was no secret to her that the apartment next door had been empty for quite some time and that a new neighbor had moved in last week, however, she hadn't had the pleasure to know the man. But now she knew, and the thought of having him next door made her want to jump up and down like an over-caffeinated schoolgirl.

She took a deep breath.

"Come on, Janeway, calm the hell down!" she said to herself and stopped fidgeting with the hemline of her dress, which she had no recollective memory of ever having done before. Another deep breath in and she started for the door.

It took her less than two minutes to walk to his door and tap the doorbell. She fixed her hair and clothes and listened as he walked. He always did have a heavier and livelier step than she did. When the door opened, and the familiar face popped up, she felt herself smile.

"Hello, I'm Kathryn Janeway, I live next door. Welcome to the neighborhood," she teased, and he smiled, engulfing her in a tight embrace. She didn't waver and wrapped her hands around him, slightly standing on her toes so she could reach his neck.

"Is it just me, or have you gotten shorter since the last time I saw you?" She poked him blithely.

"You watch it, Mister!" He laughed jovially, "Something funny, Commander?" she asked.

"I was just thinking about how many times, over the years, I've watched you take down bullies twice your size, just like that." She giggled, and he gently led her inside, placing a hand on her back.

"Now, Commander," she said, "Would you mind explaining a few things to your ol' Captain?"

"Yes, Ma'am!"

"It's no crunch time yet, Mr. Chakotay," she teased again.

"What would you want to know, Kathryn?"

"Would you mind explaining what the hell is this?" She picked up the book from the table and held it to her chest, showing him, "And what the hell were you doing all the way in fuckin' Ireland?"

He chuckled nervously, tugging at the back of his earlobe.

"I needed some space from everything and everyone. You did once tell me you loved Ireland, so I took your word for it and rented a cabin in the middle of an Irish moor. I needed to get away for a while, to put my thoughts in order. This book is the result of such isolation."

"Aha, and couldn't you at least give me a call to tell me you were alive?" she recriminated, faking the insulting look in her face.

"Oh, come on, Kath…" he started, but then looked up at her smiling face, "You're pulling my leg, aren't you?" She nodded, bursting into laughter.

Kathryn leaned forward and hugged him once again. He did not waste time and draped his hands around her, pulling her to him.

"I really did miss you." She confessed.

"I missed you, too. Although I must acknowledge that it was nice not having to babysit you all the time." She nudged him blithely and giggled.

"What? Is the truth..." he went on, "Honestly, your caffeine addiction was getting on my last nerve."

"Well, Commander, you should know better than to mess with your Captain's coffee."

"Speaking of coffee, do you want a cup?" he offered.

"Oh, no, I left it months ago. Although, I would really appreciate if I could pain you for some ginger tea…"

"Kathryn Janeway drinking ginger tea? Why that is something I didn't believe I'd live long enough to see!" He joked as he walked towards the replicator, "Tea, Ginger, Hot." He ordered.

"You sound like Picard," she let out.

"Is that so?"

"Yep, except for the fact that he drinks Earl Grey."

"Please tell me you don't?"

"I don't"

"Well, now you're just telling me what I want to hear."

"I'm telling you I don't like it because I don't. So far, the only kinds of tea that I like besides ginger are green tea and jasmine. Earl gray is just not my cup of tea…no pun intended."

Chakotay laughed and tugged nervously at his ear once more as he handed over her tea. She took it with a smile and thanked him, setting the stainless-steel mug on the coffee table. Then she remembered.

"One more thing I want to know."

"What is it?" He took a seat next to her, legs crossed under his weight.

"Where the hell did you get that hideous picture?!" He chuckled.

"Your mother gave it to me."

"What?!When?!"

"Our first week back. I know you were in briefings for a full month, but I was let off early. I met your mother one day while coming into Starfleet Headquarters. She was coming in to see Admiral Paris. We talked for a while, I told her about this idea for a book I was toiling in for a while. She gave me encouragement and told me she would support me. I called her from Ireland, months later, and asked her to send me a picture of you, unrecognizable to the naked eye."

"Yeah, but did she have to send this one?"

"That's between you and her, I already did my part."

"Oh, believe me, Commander, Gretchen Janeway will hear from me very soon."

Dinner was scrumptious. He was always the better cook of the two, or Kathryn supposed, just had a better relationship with the replicators. Lately, though, she'd found she was a better cook if she did so the old-fashion way, just like her mother used to. Doing everything by hand also gave her time to think things through and worked as a kind of meditation for her. It took her some time to learn how to wield a kitchen knife properly, but Kathryn Janeway never shied away from a challenge.

"Oh, that was a delicious meal! As always, Commander, you have outdone yourself!" she exclaimed delightedly.

"I am glad you liked it. It was something I was taught to make by an old Irish lady. She was old as hell, but she sure knew how to make excellent food."

"Oh, yeah? I'm intrigued, tell me more."

"She was my only neighbor in miles and miles, and even then, she still had to travel two hours to get to me. Poor woman, she had to put up with me reading her fragments from the book and my occasional gushing about you."

He caught his tongue as if he had just realized what came out of his lips. Kathryn could see a violent blush taking over his cheeks. She felt as though floating in a drunken stupor, despite really having ingested just a glass of wine over dinner. This brought back memories, and oh, what memories they were! For some reason, the thought of him thinking about her made her want to jump on her feet and take over his lips. _Get a grip!_ She thought and smiled kindly at him.

"Relax, Chakotay, I know what you mean."


	3. How Do I Start?

She jolts awake, a sweaty mess of auburn hair and porcelain skin, the sound of _Voyager_ 's engines ringing in her ears. She's had this nightmare before, she's even discussed it with Counselor Troi. Deanna has dimmed it a normal occurrence, she's diagnosed it as PTSD. At this point, Kathryn has stopped denying it. She wishes she were still as naïve as she was nine years ago, she wishes she could cover the sun with a finger and just get on with her life.

She moves slightly and asks the computer to up the lights to thirty percent. The room stays dark, and she remembers she isn't on _Voyager_ anymore. She grabs the mini-controller from her nightstand and fumbles with it until she finds the correct button. The lights come on, blinding her in the process.

"Ow! Damn it!" she complains, squinting as her eyes fight to accustom themselves to the sudden brightness in the room. She blinks a few times and then reaches across her to pick up Chakotay's book. She admires the cover one more time. It is her, twenty years old or so. She admires the wild mane, the relaxed stance… It's hard to tell this is the same Kathryn Janeway from nine years ago. She smiles to herself, wondering how in the hell did Chakotay convince Gretchen Janeway to release such a horrid image of her daughter. She makes a mental note to write to her in the morning and moves on to open the book.

Her eyes travel over the typography, taking in every crack and nook of it. Her eyes water as she reads:

_I have no idea how to start this story. I only know it is about her. About her blue eyes and auburn hair. About her raspy voice and militant stance. About the way she fiercely fights for what she wants._

In some weird way, she knows. She knows this book is about her, she knows that he is in love with her, she knows she's in love with him. She knows her world is about to change for better or worse. But, heavens, it's nearly 3:00 A.M and the only thing restraining her from going next door and knocking on his door is her superb sense of shame. So, instead, she reads. She reads the first five chapters and half of chapter number six before she realizes it is time for her to get up and start getting ready for work.

Her uniform hangs lowly from a cloth hanger in the bathroom, pips on the collar and all, waiting for her to come out of the sonic shower. It is one of those days when she wishes she could go unnoticed. Guilt kicks in at around 7:30, but she ignores the feeling and grabs her briefcase to go to work. Kathryn ruffles Erin's fur and walks out into the hallway. On a regular day she would take the lift, but today she automatically chooses the stairs. _Might as well, it's only three flights,_ she thinks.

She turns a corner to find a very sweaty version of her old comrade. He's wearing a white shirt that hugs his body in all the right places and a pair of black training shorts. He smiles when he sees her and greets her with a chirpy 'good morning.'

"Good morning, Commander," she says, "You're quite jolly today. "

"Endorphins," he answers, "They smack you right in the face."

"How was it?"

"Well, I've got to give it to you, it's good to go for a run and see a little something more than empty moors for ten kilometers straight."

"I take it you missed San Francisco…"

"You bet I did. I missed the bustling of the city, but most of all I missed the people." She feels the warmth of the blush creeping up on her and smiles.

"I have to go, otherwise, I won't make it to work on time. Nice talking to you, Chakotay."

"Always," he says, and the phrase melts her heart right there and then. She walks a few more steps away from him and then hears him say:

"I'm right next door if you need anything." She takes a deep breath, turns around, and thanks him with every fiber of her being.

The rest of her day goes by uneventful. She lectures for two hours in the morning, grades papers in her office in the afternoon walk around the courtyard for a little while, talks to Boothby's nephew, eats something, and reads out of Chakotay's book. Anything to keep her busy. Or numb at the very least.

When the time to go home comes about, she shoves everything into her briefcase and pulls the old, dusty jacket over her shoulders. On her way out, she spots Tom in the hangar. He's cursing out loud and she smiles to herself. Her feet drag her mechanically towards the only familiar face she's seen since the reunion, three months ago.

"Lieutenant, I remind you, you are at a school. I will prefer if you kept the profanity to a minimum." Tom turns around, spooked at the sound of her voice, not counting on anyone hearing him.

"Captain!" Kathryn laughs gently and assuages him.

"What did I ask you to call me, Tom? And why are you so jumpy of late?"

"Sorry, Kathryn. It has been quite a week."

"How are B'Elanna and the baby?"

"Well, Miral is doing fine. Unruly as always. Each day that goes by she looks more like her mother. And Lanna…well, what can I say? You know her better than anyone."

"Must be hard living with a Klingon, huh? Back on _Voyager,_ you had 150 of us to step in between the two of you, but now… how's the change treating you?"

"Well, now that Miral is a bit older, we are getting more sleep than when we first arrived; but my marriage is going downhill. We haven't had a date since before our girl was born and then some…"

"Well, Tommy Boy, if you need a babysitter for the night, don't forget I'm only three blocks away from you."

"I'll keep that in mind and take your word for it. I don't forget how much Miral likes that silly dog of yours." Kathryn smiles and pats him in the shoulder, then makes her way back home. `

When she gets home, she finds a yellow sticky note with Chakotay's hand in it. Quickly as she can, she types the four-digit code and steps inside the apartment. Erin receives her jumping around, as always, and she pets her lightly, dropping her keys in the bowl before turning her attention to the note.

She smiles at the crabbed, indecipherable writing. _Old habits die hard,_ she thinks. Hadn't she known the man longer, she'd virtually give up on the task of trying to understand what he wrote. Keyword: trying.

The note says essentially that he wants to see her when she got back from work. He wants to talk to her about something. What could he possibly want to say that he hadn't the night before? She sighs, pinches the bridge of her nose momentarily, and walks to the sonic shower. If she's going to talk to Chakotay, at the very least she's going to do it clean.

Ten minutes later she pops out of the bathroom, a white towel wrapped around her. Her hair is wet from the shower and wrapped up in a mini-towel. In the bedroom, she pulls a cream-colored, knee-length skirt out of the top left drawer and light pink, long-sleeved button-up shirt from the closet.

It'll do. It'll have to do.

She dresses slowly, taking her time to fix every garment in place. Shoes come on and hair goes down. It is at least ten inches longer than when they first arrived. She dries it and pulls it back into a neat ponytail, securing it in place with a black ribbon that stands out amongst the waves of chestnut-colored hair. Once she's made sure no hair is sticking out, she goes on to apply her makeup. Nothing much, just something to keep her from glowing.

Pleased with her final appearance, Kathryn turns on her heels and walks into the living room. Erin, sprawled on the sofa, lifts her head when she hears her dash inside. Kathryn caresses her head lightly and heads out, grabbing the note on her right hand.

Standing outside his apartment, with merely a few meters left between them, is harder than she originally thought. Right here, right now, she feels like a twelve-year-old about to talk to her school crush. She at once regrets shutting him down the way she did. She should've gone to him and told him how she felt then. Even now, she could tell that after nearly a decade after having met the man, she still held the same feelings as she did the first day.

Somehow, a thought she's battled to suppress comes afloat and engulfs her. The image of a younger self, standing in the middle of the Bridge, face to face with the ruthless Maquis Commander.

"You are speaking to a member of my crew," she'd said when Chakotay lashed out at Tom for betraying the Maquis, "I expect you to treat him with the same respect you would have me treat a member of yours."


	4. I Don't Know How to Love Him

**Will**

A persistent ringing at the door awakes Captain William T. Riker from his slumber. He turns slightly in the bed to find Deanna sleeping like a baby and then toward the chronometer on the wall. It is way late. Who, in the name of all that's holy, could possibly be knocking at this hour?

He feels a lean hand on his arm and deduces all his squirming must've woken her up. He turns around to look into those black pools that are her eyes. There's a question in them.

"Yes, I am okay, Imzadi. There's just someone at the door."

"Do you want me to go get it?"

"No, I'll go. You stay here and try to fall asleep." He deposits a small kiss on her lips and walks out of their bedroom and into the foyer.

He opens the door to an unexpected visitor. After all these years, he expected somebody from the Enterprise to show up, but her? Kathryn Janeway is all clammy and shaky, not the iron-willed woman he met all those years ago before her ship got stranded in the Delta Quadrant.

"Captain," she says, "I am sorry to bother you. I know it's late." She looks disoriented and distraught. "Is Deanna home?"

"I'm right here, Kathryn."

Will turns around to find his wife standing right there. In the two years they'd been married and the many more years since he first met her, Will never could understand how she did that.

"Oh, good, you're here!" Deanna stares at her, wrapping a white, silk robe around her lithe frame.

"Kathryn," she says, placing both hands on Janeway's shoulders. She's shaking head to toe, looking like a lost puppy.

"Kathryn, look at me! Are you okay?" Deanna shakes her lightly and Kathryn shakes her head no, "Tell me what happened."

As soon as those words are said, Deanna asks him to bring her a cup of tea. Will walks over to the replicator, asks for it, and goes back, handing it to Kathryn. Deanna pulls him aside. At this point, Kathryn looks calmer, or at least a bit more aware of her surroundings.

"Imzadi, can you go upstairs and get Chakotay, please? She's not doing well, she needs a familiar face."

"Are you sure that'll help?"

"I'm not sure," she sighs. Will nods. He plants a kiss on her lips and walks to the bedroom to change into something a little more presentable than his pajamas.

**Deanna**

"Alright, Kathryn. I need you to calm down and tell me what happened."

"I can't," Kathryn chokes out, eyes welled in tears, "It can't be, Deanna."

"What can't be, Kathryn?"

"THIS! This thing I feel, stuck in my chest. I don't know how to do…. this."

"Okay, calm down. I can't understand a word you're telling me, Kathryn." Kathryn takes a deep breath, a sip from her tea, and goes on.

"I don't know how to love him, Deanna. I already broke his heart once, I can't bring myself to do it again. He and I have a fairly complicated story." Deanna, understanding now the situation, pinches the bridge of her nose.

"Did I ever tell you the story of my history with Will, Kathryn?" Kathryn negates and Deanna proceeds to tell her the story. By the end of it, Kathryn is astounded and her lips twist into something resembling a smile.

"I can't believe you dated other people other than him, loving him the way you do, and having nothing to hold you accountable for it. I had an entire ship to take care of. Can you imagine what it was like to babysit 146 people? He and I had the chance of a snowball in hell."

"A what?" Deanna's face is pure amusement at the outdated lingo.

"The chance of a snowball in hell. It means that we didn't have much of a standing in the first place. I guess hanging out with Tom Paris and his Twentieth-century obsession really rubbed off on me." Deanna laughs, making Kathryn laugh in the process.

Just then the door slides open and in come Will and Chakotay. Kathryn's face lights up and suddenly everything she just said makes a whole lot more sense to Deanna. She feels this wave of emotion coming from Kathryn, and a bigger one from the robust, Native-American man. Now she knows who was the "him" Kathryn was referring to. No wonder they couldn't be together.

Chakotay runs and kneels in front of her. His hand flies automatically to hold her face and ask if she's okay. She nods, and Deanna can feel just how overwhelmed she really is. There's this mix of confusion, joy, love, and indescribable fear inside her; so many feelings overwhelming Deanna to a point of stupor. She doesn't know what to do or say. She's frozen.

Only Will's tender hand on her shoulder can remove her from the overpowering sensation. He guides her into the study, giving Janeway and the Commander some space to talk things out. Deanna goes along with his plan, trusting blindly in him, like always.

"Are you alright?" he asks, a hint of familiar concern in his voice. Suddenly, it is as if somebody has rewound a tape and time has moved backward. Suddenly, she finds herself on the Enterprise-D's sickbay, with him hovering over her looking extremely worried, and Beverly Crusher scanning her with her tricorder.

"Deanna?" She snaps back to the present, nods, and kisses him softly. There's this fervent desire to show him just how much she loves him.

"I'm okay."

"You seemed…a little bit…"

"I believe the word you are looking for is 'distant', Imzadi." Will nods, a tired smile forming on his lips.

"Tell me?"

"I sensed this huge wave of feeling inside her. This profound desire to cry, this feeling of confusion… She's so overwhelmed, Will. For the very first time since I know her, I can identify this much emotion inside her. It is as if something triggered it."

"Any idea what could do so?"

"My love, I must say our beloved friend is suffering from something a little more detrimental than just PTSD."

"What do you mean?"

"Please, don't tell me you didn't notice"

"What?"

"Men!" she mutters under her breath, rolling her eyes, "When will you learn to look a little further than your PADDs and actually pay attention to the world around you?"

"Are you calling me 'nearsighted?'"

"No, I am simply stating the fact that you must be blind as a bat in order to not see that blatant display we just witnessed, Dear."

"Alright, slow down. What are you going on about?"

"Kathryn and Chakotay."

"What about them?"

"I don't know, but one thing is clear, those two love each other… madly."

"I did notice the way they looked at each other when Chakotay and I entered the room earlier. I can't say that in the years I've known Kathryn I've ever seen her look at anybody the way she looks at him. Not even Justin or Mark."

"Who is Mark?"

"Her ex-fiancée. They were engaged before _Voyager_ got stranded on the Delta Quadrant. Eventually, he met another woman and got married. I believe he has a son, now. Did Kathryn not talk to you about him during counseling?"

"No, she didn't say much about her life before _Voyager._ Every time we had a session, we always ended up talking about the ship and the crew, and whatever random alien they were having that week. It is as if she wants to forget her life before the ship."

"You mean she's blocking it out?"

"I'm not sure she's psychologically blocked it as it would happen in certain cases, but she is indeed avoiding talking about it. Whenever I touch that subject or the relationship with her family, she just steers it around and changes the subject."

"Yep. She's definitely avoiding talking about it, alright." Deanna looks at him through the corner of her eye.

"And in other news, Ladies and Gentlemen, Captain William T. Riker has just discovered water is wet!"

"Hey!" Will complains and Deanna laughs, burying her slight body on his bulky frame.

"I love you, you know?"

"Yes, I do. I love you, too. Now, let us go check on those lovebirds in our living room."

Laughing lightly, Deanna wraps a hand around his waist and together they walk out of the study. Kathryn and Chakotay are tumbled on the couch, still chatting away.

"Finally! Where did you two go?" Kathryn complains.

"We thought you might need a little while to talk with Chakotay and get your head in order," Deanna offers. Kathryn nods as a response and makes a gesture to stand up.

"Well, Counselor," she says, "I believe I've already taken away much of your sleeping time. I'll be heading out now. It was nice talking to you, thank you again."

"Oh, please, you know I am here for you whenever you need me, Kathryn," Deanna says goodbye to both Kathryn and Chakotay and watches as the doors slide shut with a soft hiss. She is still wrapped in her husband's arms then, and she cocks her head up just a few centimeters to look at him.

"Alright, Darling, enough emotions for one day. Come to bed." And she takes his hands, and Will follows, like every time she guides. She is "Mrs. Always Right," after all.

**Kathryn**

"Thank you for walking me home. I insist it was not needed. I live next door."

"Again, I want to make sure that you were alright."

"Chakotay, you seem…perhaps a little…uneasy." He turns, grabbing both her hands in his.

"Kathryn," he says, "What exactly happened to you earlier?"

"I couldn't quite put it into words. I was fine when you and I talked earlier, but as soon as I came out of your apartment, there was this choking sensation, and I just couldn't bring myself to breathe. Next thing I knew, I was ringing at the Rikers' apartment."

"Why didn't you come to me? I was only a door away."

"A lot has happened since we got back. Deanna has been my pillar all along, she's my counselor. I have been diagnosed with PTSD, Chakotay, and my panic attacks are getting increasingly frequent each day."

"It is only understandable, after what we went through. How is the rest of the crew faring?"

"From what I hear they are doing fine. Crewmen Chell and Dalby will be resuming space travel as of next week. Nothing too serious to start out, just a quick trip to Deep Space Nine."

"That's fantastic."

"Yes, it is. I am very proud of them. Of all of you." They stop at her door and Kathryn lingers just a second too long to type in the four-digit code.

"Would it trouble you if I came in, Captain?"

"Not at all, and I'll tell you the same thing I told the rest of the crew three months ago, at _Voyager's_ first-year reunion. Don't call me 'Captain,' I haven't been the Captain in a very long time."

"But, that is your title; is it not?" He intervenes, dark, brown eyes fixed on blue ones, sending shivers down her spine every time. _Now, get it together, Janeway!_ She reminds herself and walks into the apartment as the door hiss open.

"Watch out for the be…" Too late. Before she can finish the sentence, Erin lashes out at the pair, wagging her brown, furry tail.

"Well, aren't you a cutie?!" Murmurs Chakotay, petting the puppy. His attention diverts from the dog to his surroundings. From the tall tropical dracaena plant in a corner, next to the door, to the several succulents on the coffee table. From the black leather of the furniture to the potted peace lily plant on the windowsill. There's also a semi-dead Vulcan orchid on the kitchen counter.

"Hey," he says, "Shouldn't you move this sad-looking orchid to a place with a little bit more light? It looks kind of droopy." Kathryn half chuckles half winces.

"Tuvok gave me that for my birthday. I've been meaning to move it for weeks, but I have been so busy I keep on forgetting. Where do you think I should put it?" Chakotay surveys the apartment.

"How about… right there. In that corner, behind the curtain." With her permission, he moves the plant, placing it on the crystal table by the balcony doors. "There," he says, cleaning his hands on the sides of his black trousers, "This poor plant should revive in few days. "

"Thank you."

"No need. I didn't know you were such a plant lady. From the moment I walked in, I've counted at least a dozen of 'em"

"Well, Deanna did mention that I needed a hobby…to take my head of the day's stress. But, as you can imagine, with my schedule, they had to be of minimal maintenance." Chakotay walks over to the windowsill, carefully eying one of the plants.

"What kind of plant is this?"

"It's a Japanese sedge. I picked it out because it reminded me of Albert Einstein's hair." He laughs; that low, smooth as honey, laugh of his that always sends shivers through her very small and beaten body.

"The guy might've been a genius, but was it really that difficult to brush his hair in the morning?"

"You said it, the guy was a genius. Geniuses do not have time to worry about their appearance, they have more important things to worry about."

"…"

"No, really. Think about it this way, Chakotay. If Einstein were to worry about picking out an outfit in the morning, it would've taken him twice as long to come up with the theory of relativity."

**Chakotay**

Chakotay laughs again and agrees with her. Arguing with Kathryn Janeway would get him nowhere. He knew better than that. His eyes drift from the plant to Janeway to the chronometer on the wall. It is late, almost 1 am, and he gets ready to say his goodbyes and return to his own flat when he realizes what day it is. It is May 20th, Kathryn's birthday. She hasn't said a thing, but then again, she always forgets.

Today she is turning thirty-five and, if you ask him, she doesn't look a day over thirty except for the weariness lingering in the blue pool of her eyes. Kathryn would dismiss him if he said anything, she knows he's looking at her through the lens of love; but to Chakotay, Kathryn Janeway is the most beautiful woman in this universe. To him, she is the epitome of beauty reincarnated.

"Would you come over to my house for a moment? I have something I want to show you."

"Chakotay…" she breathes out, but he interrupts her.

"Please?" He stretches his hand out, urging her to take it. He waits patiently, seeing her think about it until eventually, she does take it with a smile on her face.

"Alright, Commander, show me what you got."

They walk out of her apartment and into the hallway, stopping at his door as he types in the pin. They go in, hands still intertwined. Kat, his British shorthaired, lies asleep on the sofa.

"Wait here, I'll be right back."

Kathryn takes a seat on the couch and the cat opens her green eyes. She gets up and walks to Kathryn, sitting in her lap. Kathryn pets it lightly and sees as it falls asleep once again. Chakotay, from the top of the staircase that leads to the bedroom, looks at the scene with a certain degree of warmth in his heart, and then disappears.

**Kathryn**

Chakotay disappears for about ten minutes. What the hell is he doing, anyway? Her mind starts to spin off in various directions and her brain drags her into a shame spiral. But fortunately, like he always does, he comes over to rescue her. He appears at the top of the staircase, holding something behind his back. Suddenly she finds herself grinning like an idiot, unable to make the rest of her body comply.

"Hey," he says, "Are you okay? Where did you run off to this time?"

"I just ran off into one of my shame spirals. I reckon you are rather familiar with them, Commander."

"I remember the void episode, well into our journey home. Like I promised, I have something I wanted to give you." His hands come out from behind his back, presenting her with a small, long, rectangular box in a mahogany color. "This is for you."

Kathryn takes the box, thanking him. Carefully, she lifts the lid to reveal a golden locket with a very intricate design, buried amidst a mass of crumpled tissue paper. It is a mini replica of Voyager _._ She opens it, inside there lies the same picture that sits on her desk in her office at the Academy. The whole Voyager crew on Ancestor's Eve, five years ago this spring.

"Happy Birthday, Kathryn." She's speechless. She wants to say something, but she can't. She'd forgotten the way this man makes her feel, and it feels wonderful to be loved in the way he loves her. He hasn't said a thing since their time in New Earth, but among the two of them, words are just that, words. They are nothing but a pretext, nothing but filler air and sounds to avoid addressing the big elephant in the room.

"I figured you'll always be Captain Janeway, no matter what path you take in life. Or, at the very least, for the people in that photo, you'll always be their captain. I also know, deep within you, that the Captain lies there, dormant, waiting for you to bring her out."

There is silence for a minute, and then, as if a sudden miracle has happened, she finds her words.

"Won't you come to sit down for a minute? I want to talk to you about something."

"What about?"

"I would like a picture of you," she suddenly is feeling incredibly audacious, it is now or never.

"What for?"

"From now on, even when we're separated, I want to have you where I can keep an eye on you." Chakotay seems baffled and ecstatic at the same time, "Chakotay, I know that I wasn't always the clearest when it came to my feelings; I know that I've hurt you many times before. I know that…"

But before she can say another word, she feels the light pressure of his lips on hers. Her mind races, her pulse increases, and soon she finds herself engulfed in him. He tastes like mint and green tea, smells like patchouli and sandalwood. He suddenly becomes her entire world and there is nothing she could do about it.

They break apart only when the need for oxygen strikes. Kathryn feels lightheaded and slightly nauseous like she has butterflies in her stomach. _Heavens, what a cliched expression._ But it is true. There's just no other way to describe it.

Despite the queasiness, she smiles, basking in the warmth of his body against hers.

"Kathryn…" he starts, but she shushes him by pressing a lean finger to his lips.

"Shhh," she soothes, "I know what I'm doing, you don't need to protect me." Their lips meet again, and this time the kiss is intense, ardent like the flames of the underworld.

Between kisses and laughs, they stumble to the bedroom, like a pair of kids in love. Carefully, Chakotay deposits her on the bed, as if she were made of glass, or something a tad more precious. He looks her in the eye.

"Are you sure about this?"

"Completely," she whispers, "just…it's been a while, please be gentle."


	5. The Child

**Kathryn**

She wakes up a sweaty mass of chestnut hair and flushed skin. There is no nightmare this time, for the very first time in months she feels like she's slept well. Strong arms hold her, and she can't help but smile. Her head lies on his chest, and she can hear the soft flutter of his heart against it. It's a constant, beating drum playing the most beautiful music her ears have ever heard. Or, maybe, is just the love that overflows her.

"I can hear it, you know?"

"I thought you were asleep," she says, "what do you hear?"

"Your head. Your constant overthinking. Can you put it to rest at least for tonight?" Kathryn laughs gently and cocks her head up just a little to look at him.

"You should know by now if I don't overthink things I am not Kathryn Janeway." He holds her dreadfully closer and places a tender kiss on her lips.

"Blimey, I know how headstrong you can be. But can you turn this little head off for a few minutes?" Chakotay gently runs a hand through her tousled hair, then plants a kiss on her forehead.

"I'll try."

"Thank you. But if you do feel the urge to think of anything, think of me instead?" Kathryn chuckles.

"Impossible."

"Oh?"

"I already think about you more than it is considered healthy." She nestles a bit closer, his warmth is the happiest place right now and his arms are just the place where she most wants to be. Her head cocks up once again and she places a small kiss on his chin.

"There is something I need to tell you," she looks at him, expectant, evermore his faithful listener. "It is something I found out about barely a few hours ago before Will came in to get me, and it is something that can change the world as we know it, Kathryn."

"Chakotay, please don't scare me…"

"You know I love you, right?" The question strikes her funny, Chakotay is not the type to change subjects, no matter how dreary they are.

"I know, and I love you, too my angry warrior. But please, tell me what this all is about?" He stays silent, not a word comes out of his lips. "Chakotay, for fuck's sake, spit it out! Don't make me make that an order!" He takes a deep breath, visibly nervous.

"I just found out that…." Breathe in, breathe out, "I just found out I have a ten-year-old son."

Okay. She's got to admit she wasn't expecting this, and she can feel the sudden pang to her stomach. This brings up a lot of memories; memories of the Delta Quadrant and the Kazon, memories of Seska saying that little bundle in her arms was his kid, memories of the disappointment in his eyes when he found out it wasn't indeed his kid, but Culluh's.

"Please, say something?" He begs, there is this glimpse of sadness in the dark, ember pool of his eyes.

"What's his name?" She knows she's at the verge of tears, so does he, but she makes a titanic effort and chokes them back, looking up at him with what she hopes is a look of pure love.

"Luke. I met his mother about eleven years ago, she never told me she was pregnant."

"How did you find out?"

"I received a communiqué from Starfleet. She was serving on board the U.S.S. Arden and had no family but him. She confided on the ship's doctor to tell the Captain. He called Starfleet and they contacted me. The boy has nobody else to look after him. From what I'm told, Janis never married."

"When will you meet him?"

"The Arden is expected to dock tomorrow morning. I was told to be there by four o'clock to pick him up."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"Really? Would you do that for me?"

"I'll do anything for you." She gently kisses his lips, eyelids closing, any sign of the earlier deception gone from her features. This time her guard is completely down. This time she is only Kathryn, his lover, his Kathryn.

"Why do you do this? I mean, you should be screaming, yelling at me for betraying you, I don't know..."

"Yeah, but what good would it do? It was ten years ago, we didn't know each other the way we do now. I have no right to claim anything from you. We weren't together back then, but we are now and the least I can do is stand by you in the difficult moments. Listen to me, Chakotay, when I say "I love you" what I really mean is "I love your light and I love your dark. And I'll stand by you whatever the cost." Do you understand, Commander?"

"Yes, Ma'am. Spirits, I love it when you call me Commander." He says, a smile forming on his face.

"It's settled then, I'll be there with you tomorrow. I have to stop by the Academy, anyhow, to pick up some papers I need to grade over the weekend."

"Can I help you?"

"Pfff, sure. If you care about reading a cadet's paper on warp drive physics." He winces.

"You know, I think I better abstain from this one. Those days are long past by me, and I intend to keep it that way." She laughs, and she can recognize the chipper Kathryn of her youth.

"Oh, Heavens, I missed that laugh. What the hell was I thinking, moving all the way to fucking Ireland?"

"The world will never know," she laughs.

"Oh, so we're funny today, huh? Come here you!" He starts tickling her, she laughs uncontrollably.

Their day continues as usual. Kathryn goes to the Academy for a few hours and Chakotay insists on tagging along. Fortunately, she has no lectures today, but she does have a meeting in the afternoon. When she comes back to the office, painted in a murky gray color and adorned with nothing but a single Norfolk Island pine about three meters in height, she finds him sitting at her desk reading from a PADD.

"Hard at work?" she asks

"I had an idea for a new book."

"How's it going?"

"I've written about twenty-seven words and one of them is incomplete. If I'd known writing was going to be this difficult, I never would've tackled it in the first place." Kathryn laughs and walks up to him, planting a chaste kiss on his lips.

Swiftly, she moves toward the replicator. Before she can say anything, he jumps in.

"Let me guess; coffee, black?"

"Actually, green tea for two." The beverages materialize on the replicator pad and she takes them. She hands him one of the mugs, noticing the look on his face.

"What?"

"Since when does Kathryn Janeway drink green tea?"

"Since my anxiety attacks started, last December. Plus, I realized I needed to sleep eventually."

"Seven years of getting only two hours of sleep finally got to you, huh?"

"Ah, what can I say? I'm not as young as I used to be."

"Aww, come on, Honey, you're not sixty yet. You've still got a good twenty years or so." She laughs softly and extends a hand across the bureau to grasp his. He runs a thumb over the smooth skin there, adoration in his eyes.

"Tell me about Luke?"

"He's a brilliant boy, for what I'm told. The Captain of the Arden, Eamon McCool, tells me he plays tennis and likes running. He also tells me he plays multiple instruments. He got that from Janis's side. I believe her father was a pianist."

"Bright indeed."

"Maybe you can coach him?"

"Me, coach him In what?"

"Why in tennis, of course. Honey, were you even listening?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Darling. I just got so caught up in the look on your face that I lost total track of what you were telling me."

"What look?"

"That 'proud papa' look you put up every time you talk about him. Don't think I didn't notice last night!" He smiles, but then his expression turns somber and she can see a hint of preoccupation in his eyes.

"What are you worried about?" She knows this man like the palm of her hand. There exist no secrets between the two of them.

"I'm aghast. What if he doesn't like me?"

"He'll love you, alright, just like I did the minute you materialized on my bridge for the very first time." She smiles, and he grips her hand a tad tighter. Right here, right now she is in paradise and he is right beside her.

Silence fills the room, but there is a silent dialogue between them. No words are needed, for eyes do all the talking here. Chakotay takes a sip of his tea, smiles, and finally breaks the thin veil that has extended over the tiny cubicle.

"There's something else bugging me."

"What is it?"

"I'm worried about as to where he is going to sleep. You know how tiny my apartment is, there is only one bedroom."

"We'll figure something out, my love, don't you worry." Looking at the chronometer on the gloomy, gray wall, Kathryn places the cup on the replicator pad for recycling and fastening her jacket in place.

"Where are you going?" He asks, somewhere between a frown and a smile.

"I have an appointment with Deanna at 1100 hours, and I am already running late."

"Wait, do you mind if I come with you?"

"Not at all. I think Deanna won't mind having you over. She's been trying to get me to talk specifically about you for months. I think it is about time we put an end to that."

"Okay then, let's go."

**Deanna**

The minute she sees Kathryn walk into her office, she gets the sense she is a completely different woman. She seems…lighter somehow, nothing to do with the Kathryn that left her apartment the night before. There is something inside her that she's never felt before; total exuberance.

Kathryn walks into her office with a smile on her face, the biggest one she has seen in months. She wants to ask what in the world is going on. In this instance, not even her Betazoid abilities can help her much.

She notices who's come with her this morning. Commander Chakotay stands in his impeccable tactical-red uniform. There isn't even a single wrinkle on his jacket nor a smudge on his boots. Deanna knows by her own account that there is no way in hell a man can be that polished without the help of a woman. The number of times in which she must fix one of Will's insignias or his jacket is far too many to count now.

The couple sits down. If she's reading them correctly, something happened between the two of them last night. What exactly? She doesn't know, and she has no intention of finding out. Kathryn will tell her when she is ready.

They are barely seated when Kathryn lets her know about her relationship with the Commander, sitting next to her and holding her hand.

"How are you feeling today, Kathryn?" Deanna asks.

"Wonderful. Like I haven't felt in a long time. Last night I slept well, had absolutely no nightmares."

"That's good. Do you feel like you're ready to take on this?"

"I feel I am. I feel well, calm. My head is not racing like the many times before."

"Excellent, Kathryn. That is great. But remember what we talked about last night."

"Baby steps." Deanna nods, and notices the small movement of Chakotay's hands, tightening Kathryn's. There's a silent dialogue between them. Deanna can see the struggle behind the Commander's eyes, the soft look in Kathryn's calming him down.

"I'm sensing a little worry. Everything okay, Commander?" She asks. The man looks at her, looks at Kathryn hesitating for a moment. When she nods, he swallows and takes a deep breath.

He says, "I found out yesterday that I have a son. He's ten years old, his name is Luke."

"And how do you feel about that?"

"It took me by surprise, honestly. After eight years of floating in space, this is the last thing that I expected to happen."

"I understand." Deanna looks at Kathryn, "How about you? How do you feel about this?"

"She is eerily calm for someone who just found out her boyfriend has a son. I am only waiting for the timebomb to implode, any minute now."

Kathryn whacks him with the back of her hand, playfully. She turns towards Deanna and says: "What use is getting angry over something that took place such a long time ago? I trust him with my life and I love him, that's what's important." And turning to him, placing her other hand on their joined ones, she says, "You know the drill, Commander. If we do this, we do it together."

"Yes, Ma'am!"

For the very first time since her ship reached Earth, Kathryn looks happy; but not happy as in fulfilled, happy as in 'I am with the man I love' happy. Deanna can't help but feel joy for her. Kathryn is her patient, but also her friend, a very good one at that.

For the rest of the hour or so, they speak about how it feels to be in a relationship with one another and the fact that Chakotay has a son. Kathryn seems calmed, she's made her peace with it. She knows what's done is done and there is absolutely nothing she can do about it. Chakotay, on the other hand, is anxious. It's only natural, he is about to meet his son for the first time. She knows his head is a huge mess, she knows he has not a single clue of how to be a father. He is scared shitless and vulnerable as a newborn.

When their time is over, and they are getting ready to say goodbye, Deanna approaches Chakotay in private, as Kathryn wanders off to make her next appointment. She places a lithe hand on his forearm, making him turn.

"Take good care of her, she's already broken beyond repair." He nods, she adds, "Don't worry, it'll be alright. You'll see. And if I know Kathryn as I know her, she'll be there with you every step of the way. Don't let that tiny body fool you, Commander. She's tougher than she seems."

"If there is something I've learned from all these years of knowing Kathryn is she is devilishly beautiful and twice as stubborn. I've learned to respect her sudden mood changes and I've seen her take down bullies twice her size. Believe me, Deanna, she's no damsel in distress. The girl can whoop both our asses with one hand and still drink her coffee with the other. Did she tell you about the one time when she single-handedly took down a ship-full of macro viruses?"

"No, she did not," Deanna fixes her eyes on Janeway as she approaches the other two people.

"Ooh, my bad. Remind me to tell you about it next session, Deanna. This big oaf was down quicker than I ever imagined, by the Doctor's account. By the time I got back from a conference with one of the world's leaders, I found out I had an infested ship and most of my crew down with the virus. Let's just say…it got ugly."

"For lack of a better word."

"You have to tell me about it next week, or I swear I'll become your worst nightmare." Kathryn laughs and assures Deanna she will, and just like that takes Chakotay's hand and out of the office they go.

**Chakotay**

He'd never been so anxious in his entire life. He was standing in the middle of Starfleet Academy, awaiting the transport from the Arden. The main chronometer in the Administration Hall marked 1500 hours. He walked back and forth, vibrating with every single step.

"Sweetheart, please relax. You're going to open a dent in the pavement. Come, sit here by me." Her sweet voice grounds him. He walks over to her, to the wooden chairs with black cushions. The place looks more like a sickbay's waiting area than a transporter room. Gray walls, wooden chairs with black cushions, a single sad-looking plant in the corner.

He sits down and instantly her hand flies to his, fingers intertwining. She clearly doesn't give a flying saucer about who sees them, even though doing so violates every single regulation in the Starfleet Rulebook. He's impressed by her new attitude. Kathryn Janeway, a born and bred Starfleet brat? Something had to happen while he was in Ireland.

Before he has any time to understand exactly what is happening, he sees him. Small for his age, raggedy frame, and flames for hair. Green eyes, face speckled by freckles, thin lips tightly shut. Behind him is Captain Eamon McCool, the familiar blood-red uniform without a single crease.

Kathryn gets up to meet him, shakes his hand firmly, and thanks him for bringing the boy down. Chakotay is still sitting, frozen before such a scene. He feels her hand, gets up, and emulates her.

The boy hasn't said a word since before the transfer, his thin lips are still tightly shut. Chakotay can't read him at all. _Pokerfaced,_ he thinks, _just like your mother._


	6. Welcome Home, Son

**Kathryn**

Luke doesn't look in the least like Chakotay. If she didn't know better and saw them side by side, she'd say they were not at all related. But the fact is, the boy may not look alike, but he is his father's son in many ways. His posture, the way he walked, even the gestures he made gave away who his father is. To the trained eye, that is.

He hasn't said a word and is donning a mask that exudes serenity when she knows, inside he's about to lose it. Kathryn would recognize that mask anywhere; she herself wore one for seven years.

The silence in the apartment is oppressive. Child mute. Father mute. Child raging war. Father submissive. And her… well, she is Switzerland. Not much she can do for either one in this situation.

"I'm going to feed Erin," she says and walks out of the apartment, doors hissing behind her. She goes inside her apartment and calls up Deanna. She needs her advice more than anything right this minute. It is Will who answers the Comlink. He looks like he hasn't had any sleep in weeks. He salutes her sluggishly, she salutes back. She asks for Deanna and waits as Will yells for her. She comes into view, pecks a kiss on his cheek, and takes over the comlink.

"Looks like I woke him up? Late night?"

"Pulled out an all-nighter reviewing some student papers."

"Ouch, been there, done that. It's not fun."

"So, why did you call, because I don't believe you call me only to talk about my husband's sleeping habits."

"Well, I'm worried about Chakotay and his son. Particularly the boy."

"What about him?"

"He is eerily calm for someone whose mother just died and has met his father for the first time."

"You think he's wearing a mask?"

"I'm just saying, I wore one for three-quarters of a decade. I can recognize one when I see it."

"Alright, where are you right now?"

"My apartment, I came to feed Erin and call you, I needed some advice. I'm like Switzerland in this situation. Can't do much for either one."

"Alright, stay there, I'll be up in a minute." And just like that the com goes off, the Starfleet logo splayed on black. She gets up from the desk chair where she sits and goes straight to the replicator.

"Canine supplement number five." Immediately, the dog food materializes on the replicator pad. Kathryn takes it and scrapes it off into Erin's bowl, setting the plate back in the replicator pad for recycling.

As the pup eats, she takes a small spray bottle and fills it with tap water; walking slowly to the semi-dead Vulcan orchid Chakotay moved closer to the balcony doors just a few days ago. She sprays it quickly and moves along to the succulents on the coffee table.

A few minutes later, the bell goes off and she opens the door for Deanna. Her thick mane is tied into a ponytail and she's wearing a knee-length summer dress in turquoise with teal undertones.

"Okay, now that I'm here, let's go check on those two."

"If Luke turns out anything like his father, then we're toast."

"Why'd you say so?"

"Chakotay is the most bullheaded man I've ever met." They laugh and start their trek next door. Kathryn enters the pin and Deanna looks at her, intrigued.

"He never changes his pin. It is the same as it was back on the ship."

"Well, that is certainly convenient."

"Yes, it is. Very convenient."

They go in. The silence is sharp, a double-edged sword. Luke is slouching on the couch, legs crossed under his weight. He's around 32 kilograms and slightly short for a boy his age, around five inches shorter than the average ten-year-old. On his hands, a beat-up copy of Plato's _Apology_ waits ajar for him to turn the page. Kathryn Looks at Chakotay, he too is holding a battered print in his hand, only his is Ovid's _Metamorphoses._

_Like father, like son,_ she thinks while looking at Deanna. She seems puzzled at the scene they are seeing.

"I thought you said they were at each other's throats," she whispers.

"I never said they were at each other's throat, I only mentioned I was worried. You know, sometimes I feel like you only listen to what you find convenient." Deanna looks like she wants to say something, but before she can summon her words Kathryn adds, "And don't you dare use that darned psychobabble on me!"

Chakotay looks up from the book to see them standing there, prattling between them. He smiles at Kathryn, she smiles back and asks to speak with him for a minute. They go upstairs, to the bedroom, and for the first time since she's known him, Chakotay burst into tears. She knew he was trying to hold it together.

**Chakotay**

If there is something Chakotay completely despises, that is crying in front of people. His father always said honorable men show no weakness. But right here, right this minute, he can't help it. Kathryn throws her arms around him, pulls him towards her, and coddles him as if he were a boy. He can feel the love in her touch and her quiet, barely audible, words.

"Hey," she says, "It'll be alright. You'll see." Her hand comes up to his cheek and wipes a tear away. Her lips follow to meet his temple.

"Just give him time to adjust, okay. Is all new to him." He nods and takes a deep breath.

"Spirits," his voice is shaky, "What would I do without you, huh?"

"I don't know, you tell me." She smiles. Suddenly he feels reinvigorated. His lips meet hers; it is a deep, romantic kiss.

"I love you; thank you for always being there when I need you."

"I love you, too. Be patient, my love. He will come around."

**Deanna**

As soon as she is left alone with the boy, Deanna tries hard to think of a way to approach him. He seems absorbed in that book, withdrawn.

"Luke?" Inquisitive green eyes look up to her, "Would you mind we chat for a little while?"

The boy marks the page with a little card of unknown precedence, sets it right beside him. Kat opens an eye and takes the place of the book, across his lap.

"How are you feeling?" Deanna tries, but the boy is reticent and answers in monosyllabic. He keeps on petting the cat, eyes fixed on the floor.

"Fine."

Deanna tries again, "How do you feel about the Commander?"

"He's okay, I guess. "

"Have you spoken to him?"

"He said I didn't need to, took me to his library, and allowed me to pick a book."

"That's nice!"

"Is weird though… having him around. All my life is being just mum and me, and now I find out I have a father."

That's good. It is more than he's said in the last couple of hours.

"You want to tell me more about it?"

"My mother never spoke about him. Just the mention of his name moved her to tears. It was the one story she couldn't bring herself to tell."

"She must've loved him deeply."

"She did, and she suffered every minute of her life for it."

"How do you feel about it, do you… hate your father, for making your mother suffer?" She strives to choose the right combination of words.

"No, I don't. But it does take some getting used to."

"How about Captain Janeway? Do you know she's your father's girlfriend?"

"She seems nice, one can tell they're in love. How did that start?"

"Why don't you ask her, she's right there."

Deanna looks toward the staircase, where Kathryn slowly makes her way into the living room. Behind her tags Chakotay.

"How did you two meet?" His voice is squeaky, like a cartoon character. The surprise is etched in Chakotay's face. Kathryn is the one to answer the question.

"We served together. Ever heard of the _U. S. S. Voyager?"_

"Have I? The entire United Federation of Planets has heard about the _U. S. S. Voyager!"_

"Well, I assume you know how that went." The boy nods and Deanna can't help but feel relieved that they are at least talking.

As quietly as it's humanly possible, she scurries away, living them to talk and connect like the family they are now.

**Kathryn**

"How do you feel about going to Bloomington, give your mother a visit and see how she's fairing?"

Weeks have gone by and things have changed drastically. Living arrangements, for one, are different. She had Chakotay and Luke move in with her, her apartment being larger and all. That old, unused room she was saving to turn into a study? It got turned into Luke's room, his kingdom. Her coming home and finding a father and son sitting together at the table, working on Luke's homework or just talking, and tucking the child up at night became normal occurrences. No longer was her apartment somber and cold when she came in, but it was full of life and warmth. She found that little by little she was starting to live her life fully again. And she was enjoying every minute of it, that was or sure.

"Why the sudden wish to visit my family, Darling?"

"Just the thought that your mother has yet to meet your partner in space and time," Kathryn smiled at that. As always, _Bullseye!_

"Well, with my teaching at the Academy I don't have an opening until Christmas break. So, if you wish to take it…"

"Oh, babe, I'm all in!"

"Remind me to call her later, gotta tell her to find an extra bed. Phoebe visits her around that time and the open guest bedroom is already claimed by her six- year- old."

"If it's about Luke, don't worry. He's small enough to fit comfortably on the couch."

"Not a chance, Chakotay. And you know better than to ask for something like that!"

"Okay, okay," he said, surrendering before an argument he knew couldn't win. Kathryn smiled and embraced him as tight as she could; standing in her tippy-toes to reach him. The fact she was the high of an average twelve-year-old didn't help much. _A furious twelve-year-old, indeed,_ he thought.


	7. Cosmic Love

She is so tiny, he observes. They fit together like two pieces of the same puzzle. He can feel the steady breathing and the sweet drumming of her heart against her chest. It's a fluttering very much like the sweet, soft rumble of _Voyager's_ engines.

A lean thumb on his cheek pulls Chakotay of his morning reverie. She's here. She's real. Every morning he wakes and looks at her as if it were some sort of Elysian dream; as if she were water about to slip away through his fingers. And then she wakes up and caresses his cheek, and he understands it isn't a dream but his reality every morning.

"Good morning," she says, voice husky from sleep. She smiles, causing his head to spin in a stupor. Her voice unleashes a swarm of butterflies underneath his clothes. Spirits know he can't help it.

"Good morning," he answers. "Please, don't look at me that way, spirits know I can barely contain myself." Kathryn blushes and laughs under her breath.

"I don't need you to contain yourself." She places a soft kiss on his lips. It starts soft, then it grows heated. It is a fire in need of a single match. She needs him desperately and so does he.

It is the imminent demand for oxygen that makes them pull away. He turns slightly to look at her in the eye. Blue pools look back at him with a devotion beyond description.

"For goodness sake, Janeway," he lets out in a single breath, "what have you done to me? What witchcraft is this?"

Kathryn laughs again, more sonorously this time. Then she turns serious, blue eyes nailed on him.

"I love you," she confesses. "Beyond life and beyond death, I love you. Never forget that, Chakotay. Whatever happens, never forget that."

He bends down to kiss her, but before their lips can touch a knock at the door startles them. They laugh at the inopportune caller, more so when it proves to be Phoebe.

"Would the two of you lovebirds join us at the table for breakfast?" she yells from the other side of the door. Kathryn hides a blushing face in the crook of Chakotay's neck, still laughing. After a minute or two, she manages to compose herself enough to answer.

"We'll be there in a minute, Pheebs!" She waits until she hears the light footsteps fade away in the distance, then she looks at her amused lover's face and adds, "I told you there was no privacy in this house. Especially when _she_ is around." He laughs heartily, kissing her forehead before making a gesture to get up.

"Where are you going?" she asks as she turns to look at him.

"Well, Sweetheart, you certainly do not expect me to go sit at your family's breakfast table wearing solely underwear and a shirt. No, I'm going to take a quick shower and so will you." He stresses as he walks into the bathroom.

Kathryn listens as he turns on the water and stares at the ceiling pensively. Sometimes he treats her as if she were a child, but she doesn't mind that. Rather she likes it. It is good to know she has people taking care of her for once in her life instead of her doing all the caring. It feels good to throw caution to the wind for the very first time in her life.

He comes out of the shower, bare-chested and hair wet. Kathryn hears him tussle with the floor mat in the bathroom and swear as he trips over it. She turns her head a little to look at him and she feels as if someone had kicked her in the stomach and knocked the wind right out of her lungs. She observes quietly, with the curiosity of the scientist she is, as he dries his hair with the towel and gets dressed. He can feel her staring.

"What?"

"Be still, my heart…" He smiles at the compliment. To know that she feels that way and that it is because of him is all he needs to keep on living.

She arises from the tiny bed, kicking the covers off and revealing her lithe body in the peach-colored nightie. He sucks in a breath as she walks toward him and shudders as her delicate hands take hold of him by the shoulders. She is a vision, and Chakotay loves this version of her. But seeing her in that red command uniform, one hand poised elegantly on her hip while the other holds a cup of coffee (or whatever her usual poison is now) … that makes him want her beyond what he believes humanely possible.

Phoebe knocks on the door and this time she is desperate. Kathryn plants a sweet kiss on the corner of his lips.

"You better get down there," she whispers and scurries to the bathroom.

"That's right," he says as she does so, "throw me to the wolves!"

"Don't worry," she refutes, "I'm pretty sure you'd return leading the pack."

**Gretchen**

Gretchen Janeway is sitting at the stool by the kitchen counter. Her fast hands work diligently, one expertly wielding a kitchen knife while the other slowly turns a potato. She's always done everything by hand, convenience be dammed. It is the way her mother taught her, and her mother before her. It is in the blood of the women in her family to struggle with the replicators, all except Phoebe's. She was always the exception to the rule.

She listens carefully as she hears steps. Quiet, short, quick steps that could only belong to her eldest daughter. She smiles, setting the potato down and picking up another. The hissing rhythm of the blade against the potato peel is enthralling, soothing almost.

There's a slight moment of silence as Kathryn stands there, looking at her.

"Since when does my daughter need an invitation?" she says, putting down both the potato and knife and cleaning her hands into the pockets of her apron.

"Oh, Ma," Kathryn laughs. She's never heard her laugh like this. There is a joy within her Gretchen thought gone with Edward, so many years ago. She enters the kitchen and hugs her tight, a question in her eyes.

"There's no mistaking those footsteps. I've been hearing those feet come across these floors all your life, Kathryn Janeway." Again, Kathryn laughs and embraces her mother. Gretchen pulls them both to a pertaining stool by the kitchen counter. She looks at her with what she hopes is some sign of devotion. "You look so different than when I last saw you," she muses.

"Oh, Ma, I'm so happy."

"I can tell. I haven't seen you smile like that in years. Not since Dad."

"It's him, Ma, he is the one who makes me feel as giddy as a schoolgirl. He complements me like no other. He is my better half." And she was right. They were just like fire and ice, balancing each other out. Complementing each other. He was the light to her dark, the love to her hatred, the peace to her war, the strength to her weakness. They were meant to be together.

"Do you love him?" It's an unnecessary question, she knows. Kathryn has already given her everything to this man, and so has he to her.

"With all that I am. If he'd stop looking at me, even for just a second, I would fade away into oblivion."

"I've seen it, you know? The way he looks at you; as if he'd only ever needed you to keep on living rather than oxygen in his lungs. "

"He's my whole world, Ma. There are no words to depict just how much I love him."

"You know, Da would be proud. A Janeway openly admitting to her feelings…that must be some sort of miracle. You know, Katie, you're so much like your father. Perhaps much more than you realize."

"I owe it all to him. It took me eight years to realize my true feelings for him and I nearly lost him in the process, Mum. That is not a mistake I will be making again, mark my words."

"I know you, Katie. I'm your mum, after all, aren't I? I saw you with Justin, with Mark, with old school boyfriends…. In all these years, I have never seen my little girl so happy as she is now. Chakotay…he is a good man, and he does love you. I can see it in his eyes, in the way he speaks and looks at you, in how his breath catches in his throat when you enter the room. It is almost as if you were his entire world."

Kathryn looks at Gretchen with tears in her eyes, as if she can't decide whether to laugh or to cry. Gretchen looks back at her with eyes passive and wise, calm as the ocean breeze on a hot summer day. And then Luke storms in through the robust kitchen door, interrupting the touching moment between mother and daughter.

"Hey, Mom," he says, and Gretchen can see the plastered look of surprise in her daughter's face, "Dad says we're going for a walk around town and if you would like to accompany us."

"Sure, Honey," Kathryn replies, fighting through tears and the knot on her throat, "Tell Dad I'll catch up with you guys in a few minutes, okay?"

"Okay!" And just like he stormed in, the boy storms out.

Gretchen looks at Kathryn. She's paler than normal and there are tears in her eyes. Even though she is sitting, she holds on to the surface of the counter for dear life, her knuckles turning almost white from the pressure.

"Kathryn," her hand instinctively flies to her daughter's chest, "Honey, are you alright? Come on, Sweetie, breathe." Kathryn does. She struggles to inhale a few times and then turns to her.

Fighting through tears and that persistent knot on her throat she manages to choke out, "He called me 'Mom'"

"What?"

"Luke called me 'Mom.' He'd never called me that before."

Gretchen understands now how important this is for her. She admits to herself she would've reacted in the same way had their situations been similar.

"All right, Sweetheart, let's calm down. Maybe it was a reflex, he didn't mean it."

"Oh, Ma, he meant it. It was a reflex, alright, but Chakotay has been trying to get him to call me that ever since he became part of our family. All this time he's been calling me 'Kate,' Mum. Chakotay calls me that, so I figured he would too. And he did, and now he calls me "Mom" all of a sudden…"

"Alright. Alright, Honey, take a deep breath." Gretchen notices Kathryn is shaking and just then Chakotay bursts through the door looking for Kathryn.

"Hey, Kate," he starts, but then he devises the situation in the kitchen.

"Oh, thank the heavens, you're a godsend," spits out Gretchen with a sigh of relief.

"What happened?"

"I'm not sure. We were talking when Luke stormed in to tell her about your plans. He called her 'Mum' and she's been like this ever since."

"He did?"

"Yes, he sure did."

"Umm… okay, may I?"

"Sure," Gretchen steps away from Kathryn to allow Chakotay to take over. He steps in, pulls the stool away, and kneels in front of her.

"Kathryn," he says, and her eyes fly up to meet his, "Are you okay?"

"Luke." Her voice is soft enough for her to hear her.

"What about him?"

"He called me 'Mum.' You've been trying to get him to call me that for months now… a-and now, suddenly, he does. It was a… a reflex, he didn't mean it to come out, but he said it. He didn't even realize he said it."

"Alright," he soothes, "it's alright, Darling." Gretchen sees him swallow, notices the steady pattern of his chest as he breathes in and out.

"You've done this before." It is a deafening realization.

"During the years in the Delta Quadrant, we all saw things … horrible things, that would burn themselves in the back of anyone's eye for years. Kathryn didn't come out unscathed. None of us did. After 'Voyager' she developed PTSD, and although she's being treated, the panic attacks are a near-normal experience by now."

"How long has this been going on for?"

"A year, almost two. She told me about this and the relationship between you guys after I returned from Ireland. A few months after we got together, I came up with the idea of coming to see you. She told me how she hadn't talked to you or seen you since after she'd started to work at the academy."

"But you're here now. _She's_ here now. That's all that matters. You brought her back to us; to me. And for that, I thank you from the bottom of my soul." His eyes are still glued on Kathryn, but Gretchen somehow knows he's been listening to every word she's said in the last five minutes. Having him around helps. Kathryn is starting to calm down and slowly regain her senses. She has regained some color and her tears have stopped falling, her breath is returning to normal with every passing second.

Before she has time to register everything, Kathryn has recollected herself, her behavior back to normal. Gretchen is intrigued by the sudden mood change. Just a moment ago, her daughter was on the verge of a panic attack. Now, she's all chipper once more, looking at Chakotay with a love in her eyes Gretchen has never seen before.

"Mom, Dad, are we going to explore the town or what?" It is Luke, showing his little fiery head out of the doorframe. The jovial smile on his face turns into a frown when he sees the situation unfolding in the kitchen. "Everything okay in here?" he asks, his eyes narrow on Chakotay, and Gretchen can recognize that familiar squint of the eyes she's seen before in the boy's father.

"Everything is fine, Sweetie. Here, while your parents get ready, why don't we go feed Captain Nemo?" Gretchen and the boy exit the kitchen, leaving Kathryn to recover in Chakotay's care.

**Kathryn**

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to lose it the way I did. I ruined our plans."

"Kathryn, it's okay. Sweetheart, it's okay to feel as ardently as you feel. For me, for our son. If that fire wasn't alive and unwavering for so long, very surely, we will still be in the Delta Quadrant, floating aimlessly in space and far from our families."

"But it was dumb. All the kid did was call me 'Mum'"

"Reason enough, Darling. Reason enough. Also, who the hell is Captain Nemo?"

"My father's goldfish. He loved goldfish and Jules Verne. It only seemed just that when we gave him a pet goldfish for his birthday, he named it Captain Nemo."

"Why haven't I seen him?"

"Mother keeps him in their bedroom."

"I don't suppose it's the same fish as when you gave it to him, is it?"

"No, there have been many more before him. It's the name that carries down from fish to fish." Chakotay opens his mouth to say something, then closes it again. Kathryn knew the man long enough to look for the snarky remark coming her way. Then she observes as he scratches his earlobe as every time, he's nervous.

"Fish are gentle creatures," he says, all sense of snark escaping him in a single heartbeat.

"Indeed, they are. Smart too, even if most people think the opposite."

"Most people have the collective IQ of a soft-boiled egg." Kathryn laughs at his snarky, yet accurate comment. Over the last nine years, she's come to love his abrasive sense of humor. She'd come to love a lot of things in the last nine years, she reflects; not just his sense of humor, like the way he tugged at the back of his left ear when he was nervous, or the way he looked at her when she wasn't looking; as if she were to vanish before his eyes any second.

Love was something otherworldly, she'd come to understand in the last decade of her life. First, she thought she was in love with Mark to the point of almost marrying him. He married off at the first chance he had when _Voyager_ was declared MIA. Then she met Chakotay. Chakotay, the love of her life, her one and only, her best friend. He loved her with a love that appeared to be written in the stars… Literally. His was a torrid, patient, cosmic love.


	8. This Wasn't What I was Expecting

**The Doctor**

"No, Joe. This has got to be some sick kind of joke. It is simply not possible." She throws her arms in the air as she jumps down from the black biobed in the equally grim sickbay.

"Well believe it, Kathryn, because it is possible. And frankly, it was about time. I thought those ninnies over at HQ would delete my subroutines before I saw the day." The usual dose of sarcasm lingers in his voice, "And, by the way, I never joke."

"It can't be. By God, it can't be…"

"By God, it can. You'll be fine. I've seen you commanding a starship, a baby is not that big of a deal!"

"But I'm not ready… I'm barely, just barely, finding my footing with Luke. How the bloody hell am I supposed to take care of a newborn? What happens if he feels left out?"

The doctor looks her up from head to toe. She is terrified, he realizes and sets a holographic hand on her shoulder as if she were a recalcitrant eight-year-old he's bound to scold.

"You're never ready to be a parent, Kathryn. You see, children do not come with instruction manuals. Most of what you learn, you learn as you go. Listen, I've seen you around the others, around Kes and Tom and B'Elanna, and Seven, and Icheb. The way you looked at Naomi Wildman when she walked up to you. Believe me, Kathryn, you are mother material."

"What am I to tell Chakotay? He's not ready for this either, we just recently found out about Luke, Joe, and we aren't exactly young anymore."

"Kathryn, you're thirty-six, the commander has just turned forty. You two are at the perfect age to be parents…"

"Doctor, don't get me wrong but, did those so-called 'ninnies at HQ' forget to update your databases?"

"Why would you say so?"

"Because Chakotay just turned fifty last week." The Doctor says nothing, but his lips form a circle, and his eyes open wide enough to signify surprise. He wasn't expecting such a glitch on his databases. As other physical beings would say he 'racks' his brain doing the calculations and searching for something to tell the magnificent figure before him. Kathryn is visibly concerned, a hand that usually lands on her hip is now massaging her forehead as the other supports it.

"Look," he starts once more, "I know you're scared…"

"Try terrified," she scoffs.

"But you'll be fine," he continues, "Children can be scary, little thunderstorms, Kathryn, but they are worth it in the very end. "

"You think so?"

"Well, I'm telling you, aren't I? Look, I'm a hologram, Kathryn, but it doesn't take a rocket scientist to understand. Go home, rest a little, and let it sink in. You don't have to tell Chakotay right away."

"Trust me. He'll find out right away. Have you forgotten he can read me like a book?"

"What will be, will be."

**Kathryn**

She leaves the Doctor's office with a hollow pit in her stomach. This isn't exactly what she was expecting; no pun intended. But somehow it happened, and now there is no more to this situation than facing it.

She knows she shouldn't feel like this. She should be bursting with happiness, not wallowing about it. And so, after a long two hours of thinking about the issue (and rarely getting any work done) she decides to put away all her Academy paperwork and go home. She will nip it in the bud and tell Chakotay; face it like the adult she is.

Except, right now the "adult she is" is terrified and in desperate need of caffeine to help her process this. But when she makes it home and finds herself asking for herbal tea instead of coffee she too is surprised. So, she ends up calling her mother in hopes she can give her some advice.

"Katie!" Her mother's voice is sweet, and she is quick with a smile.

"Hi, Ma. How's everything going? How's Pheebs?"

"Everything's okay, Dove, and well, you know your sister."

"I take it she's okay, then?"

"She is, she is. How are you doing? You look kind of pale." Kathryn doesn't speak, only after a beat or so.

"Mum, I got to tell you something, and I realize this isn't the best way to give this kind of news but if I don't get this out of my chest, I feel like I'll explode."

"Kathryn, you're scaring me. Off with it, what is it?"

"I'm pregnant." And that sole word with such a strong connotation is more than enough to beat her into shape.

"Wait, that was it? You scared me, I thought it was something grave."

"Ma, this is something grave!"

"No, it is not. It's happy news and happy news is always welcome. Congratulations, Darling." Kathryn isn't expecting her mother's reaction, and she is surprised at the levity with which her mother has taken the news. Her mother has always had that coolness about her, that levity with which she saw and analyzed things. And Kathryn can't help but recognize she takes after her father; she is just a chip off the old block.

After the talk with her mother, she calls Deanna and asks for an appointment. Maybe she'll take just a few more days to process it all before telling Chakotay. Deanna, always ready for anything that might come her way, tells her to come by as soon as possible. So, the next day, after her shift at the Academy, she walks over to her office.

As always, the walls are drab, sterile almost. Behind the reception desk, a woman in her early twenties sits. There is a coffee table in the center of the room, a small hydrangea plant of multiple shades of blue and pink sits atop it, a semi-dead dracaena in the corner, and a potted blue hyacinth on the reception counter.

"Good afternoon, Eve," she says, and the young woman looks up from the computer screen, "I'm here to see Deanna." Green eyes look at her, then the screen.

"Good afternoon, Captain. Commander Troi is currently with a client, but you are welcome to wait for her. She should be done any minute now."

"Thank you, Eve." Kathryn walks away and sits down in the drab gray couch. She crosses one leg over the other, very much like she would do were it a command chair, and starts playing with her fingers, recoiled in her lap.

Soon after, Deanna's door opens, and a young Lieutenant Barclay comes out. He sees her, stops to greet her for a moment. They share a few words, then the man leaves, and Deanna motions for her to come inside.

In contrast to the pallid, drab coloring of the reception, Deanna's office is painted in a calming pale blue. There are a few succulents scattered around the room, a small wooden bookshelf filled with psychology books, some picture frames in the desk, one of Will, one of her mother, and one of a man in blue Starfleet uniform carrying a girl around six on his shoulders.

Kathryn plops onto the couch and immediately an orange-furred kitten sits in her lap.

"Well, hello, Spot," she says, almost like speaking to a child and petting her, "Shouldn't you be over with Lieutenant LaForge instead?"

"She is, but Geordi had an assignment to go in. His commanding officer is allergic to cats and he couldn't take her with him, and since Will is allergic, too, we keep her in here. Don't we, Spot?" The kitten meows an agreement then jumps from Kathryn's lap and back to her place next to Deanna.

"So, Kathryn," Deanna's voice levels and she crosses one leg over the other, Kathryn knows she's gone into Counselor Mode, "How are you feeling today?" It is metaphorical, she knows that as a Betazoid Deanna is an empath and knows exactly how she is feeling. There is no point in hiding it.

"To tell you the truth I am scared out of my mind."

"Oh?"

"It was a perfectly normal week, as always. No panic attacks after the last one in Bloomington, no rumination, nothing. I was fine, the more excitement that was in my life was taking Luke to school every morning. Then I started to feel faint. Not something normal in me, I assure you. I went to see Joe yesterday. I swear my head is spinning like never before. I'm paralyzed, I don't know what to do."

**Deanna**

Deanna scribbles something in her pad; quick, sharp movements of the wrist. She looks up at Kathryn, she's pale like she has never seen her and trembling almost.

"What happened with Joe?" She asks, putting it as tactfully as she can.

"I went in for a check-up, you know, the usual doctor stuff. He goes into his office, runs a blood sample through the computer. He comes back, PADD in hand, tells me I'm pregnant."

Deanna is shaken by the revelation. She takes a gulp of air, swallows, as she prepares to speak.

"And you're terrified about this pregnancy?"

"I don't know what to do. I'm desperate. I don't know how to tell Chakotay about all of this. I'm forty-six years old, he just turned fifty, and we have an eleven-year-old kid to think about. I recently just started to find my footing with Luke, how am I supposed to drop that bomb on him, now?"

"Luke is a sensitive kid, yes, but he is also fairly mature for his age. I am sure he will understand, Kathryn. Tell me something. How is the relationship between the two of you currently?"

"You mean ever since I turned 'mum' instead of Kate?" Deanna nods, sees her smile, "Well, before he started calling me that, it was Chakotay putting him to bed every night; now is me. I send him up to bed, check if he brushed his teeth, pull his blankets up in the middle of the night when I wake up to check on him. Before it was Chakotay walking him to and from school, now is me. I drop him off and pick him up, I'm the one helping him with math and science homework. I let Chakotay help him with history since he is the one with the archeology background."

"And how does that make you feel?" Kathryn thinks for a moment.

"I'm the happiest person alive."

"It seems to me that you're already a mother, Kathryn. Why are you so scared of this pregnancy and what it can potentially mean?" Again, Kathryn reflexes.

"I see your point. Why am I so scared of being a mother if I am already one?" Bingo. Deanna smiles, if only all her clients were as reflective and quick of mind as Kathryn her job would be one heck of a lot easier.

"So, why are you so afraid Kathryn?"

"It's something new. Unknown."

"Says the woman that stranded her ship halfway across the galaxy and brought it home in seven years. Come on, Kathryn, what are you really afraid of?" Kathryn shows dubitative and Deanna adds, "Don't forget who you're talking to."

"I'm scared this is all an illusion. That I'm stranded on some planet in the middle of nowhere and this is all a mirage. Never in a million years would I had thought that I'd have him with me, much less have his children. Deanna, I'm freaking out!"

"I know, Kathryn. But I've had the opportunity of treating you for nearly two years now, I know you as my client and as a friend. I have had the opportunity of seeing you flourish into what you are today and of knowing the woman that did out of the impossible what she could best do, come forth and protect her loved ones. You fight like a lioness for the people you love, Kathryn, and of that, there is no denying."

"But I was just doing my job," she says, "If I fell in love with my first officer, and my crew became my family, it was all collateral. All I wanted to do was get them home safely."

"And you did," Deanna pets Spot softly as she buries her obsidian eyes in Kathryn, "Look, when I first met you, thanks to Lieutenant Barclay and we spoke you told me that all you could think of in that first year in the Delta Quadrant was in getting your crew home; a few sessions later you described to me the horror that was the battle against the Kazon, and of losing Kes and the many more who lost their lives to the Caretaker's array, and couple more after that you described the nightmares you had with the Borg. And yet here you are; shying away from a tiny, wee babe?"

"Sounds ridiculous, I know."

"Just for once, Kathryn, forget you are a Starfleet brat. Why don't you think of yourself as a woman for a little while?"

"I don't think you are meant to be using that kind of language with a client, but as always, you are right. This is why you and I always understand each other." Deanna smiles. Success, once again!

"Go home, Kath," her tone is friendlier now, more human, less robotic, "Get some rest. When you are ready sit Chakotay down and tell him. He'll understand. I've never seen a man love a woman more than Chakotay loves you." Kathryn smiles.

"Oh, I have. You and Will, my parents, Paris and B'Elanna; however volatile that relationship is..."

"Yeah, how did that happen anyway?"

"The Delta Quadrant, however ruthless and unforgiving it was, it sets more than a few things into perspective…"


End file.
